


Lonely With Me

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Criminal Castiel, Criminal Dean Winchester, Criminal Sam Winchester, Love/Hate, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-19 15:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11316546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Castiel is thrown in prison for a crime committed by his ex-lover, Dean Winchester, he is anything but forgiving.





	1. In A Perfect World

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends!  
> This is my first time actually posting one of the fics I've written so I hope it's somewhat enjoyable. I have not edited it at all so beware. New chapters will be posted about every week unless work leaves me with no free time.

**_Day 1:_   _Castiel_**

****“The court calls the case of Collins versus the State of Kansas back to the stand for sentencing.”

The officer jabs an elbow into my side and I stand to walk back onto the courtroom floor. I walk with my head down; wishing more than anything to be able to fold in on myself and hide away forever. _I should never have listened to him._

“May a representative of the jury please stand and state to the court their concluding sentence.” The judge says this in a voice that sounds somewhat empathetic as she gives a short glance towards me. I watch out of the corner of my downcast eyes as a young woman from the jury stands to speak the words that will eventually ruin the remainder of my life.

“We find Mr. Collins guilty.” My breath flows out past my shock-parted lips and the sound of my heartbeat fills my ears. _Guilty_.

I don’t hear what the judge says after that. All I feel is the officer standing next to me grab my arms and pull them behind my back, only to tighten a pair of cold, metal handcuffs around my wrists. Then I was in the backseat of a police car; a place that had grown all too familiar because of him. Soon, I was staring down the endless barbed wire fences of United States Penitentiary Leavenworth. I felt like throwing up.

I am finally snapped back into reality when a correctional officer shoves a pile of clothes and sheets into my chest.

“Castiel Collins, block C, bunk 487.” I stare blankly at the officer and he stares back from behind his clip board. “Move it, inmate.”

Another officer puts a hand to my back and guides me into the prison. She understands.

“I can tell you’re not the type to fit in with a crowd like this,” the officer smiles sweetly at me. “Got caught doing something anyone could have been caught doing?”

I turn to look at the officer, my face blank. “I helped lure someone to their imminent death and then watched as my partner killed him.” The officer’s face stiffens and the presence of her hand on my back slowly drifts away. Once we arrive at my bunk, I try to not notice all the eyes on me. The officer says something I should probably hear, (but I don’t listen) and then walks away. I turn to face my lower bunk and ignore the pair of legs dangling over the edge of the upper bunk.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, short stuff.” The pair of legs slide off the upper bunk and drop down next to me.

“I apologize. I did not hear you,” I reply curtly, continuing to ignore his stare and begin to make my bed. A hand clamps around my shoulder and I freeze.

“Turn the fuck around, newbie. What’s your name?”

I turn and am greeted by a man whose head just barely reaches my shoulder level. This is the man that had called _me_ “short stuff.” I glance down at his hand on my shoulder and then back at him.

“My name is Castiel Collins.” I flick the man’s hand off my shoulder and turn back to my bed making. I hear chuckling behind me and a grunt of annoyance. I assume the man is mocking me, but I have little to no care. Once I finish my bed, I smooth down the sheets and carefully sit on top of them. Only then do I finally evaluate my fellow bunkmates.

The one I talked to climbs back up to his bunk. The man on the lower bunk across from me is barely contained in his small bed. His long legs dangle off the end as he indulges in a book I can not make out the title of. The man on the bunk above him is all too familiar to me. I watch as he peels a picture off the wall and reveals a small hole in which a variety of candies are stored. That’s when I know.

“Gabriel―” I stand to walk over to his bunk, but he cuts me off with his hand.

“Loki.”

I tilt my head slightly, confused. “What?”

Gabriel turns to me and smirks. “My name. People around here call me Loki so I suggest you do too, little brother.”

The man in the bunk above mine mumbles a string of curses. “Hold on,” he sits up in bed. “You mean to tell me you’re _related_ to that bloody idiot?”

I see Gabriel roll his eyes at the man and then crinkle up a wrapper and throw it at him. The man swats it away. “Shut it, Crowley.”

“No one calls you Loki.” The tall man says, looking up from his book. “Most of the time we just call you “Dickbag” or “Asshole”.”

Gabriel mocks the man’s statement and rolls his eyes again. “Go back to your literature, Samuel.”

“I assure you, I am nothing like Gabriel.” I smirk, amused by the feelings I’ve stirred up.

“Good,” Crowley snorts. “One candy-loving-freak was too many to begin with.”

A pillow flies from Gabriel’s bed into Crowley’s face. I hear a grunt and another string of curses from my bunkmate. I return to my bed and sit with my back leaning on the wall that the bunks are pushed up against. The man that Crowley referred to as Samuel stares at me. I raise an eyebrow.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” the man asks.

I shake my head, doubtful. “I’ve never seen you before. I would remember. I always remember.”

“I’ve never seen you either, but your personality is just so…” he shakes his head, seemingly thinking.

I narrow my eyes. “What is your name?”

“Sam Winchester.”

My face drains of color and I feel my heart skip a beat. _It can’t be_ . This can’t be _his_ brother. If it is, then he cannot be trusted. All the Winchesters do is feed off others then toss them aside, broken and used.

“No…” I stare at Sam with wide eyes.

Sam raises his arms in surrender. “Dude, what the hell. Did I say something?”

“Winchester,” I spit back at him.

This only brings more confusion to Sam’s face until his eyes suddenly grow as wide as mine. The others look between us with great confusion.

“That’s how I know you,” Sam says mostly to himself.

Gabriel’s eyes fall to mine. “What are you guys talking about?” I shake my head, knowing he won’t give up until he finds out. “Cas,” he tries again, narrowing his eyes.

“His brother, Dean Winchester,” I cringe at the name as it leaves my tongue. “He is the reason I’m here.”

This statement makes Gabriel perk up in his bed. “ _What_?”

I sigh, wanting more than anything not to have to think about _him_ for once. “We have… history. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, helping him kill someone on the sole purpose of just killing someone. The police came, I was caught, but he ran. He left me behind to take all the blame.” I put my head in my hands. “I was making a life for myself, a respectable life, then _he_ came along. I’m never going to get out of here now. They charged me with the murders he committed while he runs free.”

When I look back up, Gabriel and Sam have both turned in their beds to give me their full attention. After a few minutes, Sam finally speaks.

“Dean would tell me about you. He never mentioned your name though. He said he wanted to protect you. He—”

I cut Sam off. “Shut up,” I snap. “I don’t care about him or how much he cared about me. I will cherish the day he rots in hell.”

Sam stands and walks over to me, grabbing a fist full of the front of my prison clothing and pulling me up off my bed. I keep my face as emotionless as possible, showing no sign of the fear that bubbles up in my belly.

“Listen, I don’t care what my brother did to you, he’s still my brother and I won’t sit here and let you talk about him like he’s lesser than you. You don’t know anything about him or what he’s done,” Sam says, his voice full of venom as he shoves me back into my bed and sits back down on his own.

I can’t let him think I am fearful of him. So I do exactly what I should not, I continue to talk. “Dean is an unforgivable human being, incapable of love or being loved. He uses people for his own personal pleasure, then throws them aside, beaten and bruised. He sucks the life out of every living thing he touches and smiles as they die a slow and painful death.”

Before I can continue on, Sam lunges forward and his fist connects with my nose. I feel the bone crack and shift painfully out of place. A second punch hits me in the temple when I turn my head to cup my broken nose. This blow causes my head to spin and my vision to waver into darkness. I brace myself, awaiting the next blow that I know will follow. Sure enough, Sam’s fist connects with my stomach and the wind is knocked out of me. I don’t have time to catch my breath as his fist hits me under the chin and forces my head sharply upwards. One more blow to the temple and I feel my body go limp under me and I collapse onto the prison floor.

Voices vibrate through the concrete where my faces rests. The last thing I see are three officers running into our bunk room and restraining Sam from hitting me again. Another two officers hold back the other inmates who were crowded around our bunks to watch the fight.

My vision goes black as I hear Sam shout, “You worthless piece of shit! You meant nothing to him and you never will!”

The world around me fades into nothing.


	2. Against The Grain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, leave it a little love :)

**_DAY 2: Castiel_ **

For a split second, I had forgotten where I was and how I got there. I began to sit up and stretch my arms above my head like every other morning in my own bed, until the restraints around my wrists pulled me back into reality. My eyes snap open and instantly closed again as my head spins; pain and nausea overtaking all of my senses. I groan and gently bring my head back to rest on the pillow I was provided. I hear shuffling from the other side of the room and a woman begins to speak in a voice that makes shivers run down my spine.

“Castiel Collins,” the woman’s voice lilts with a sinister tone. “One day in and you’re already making  _ quite _ the name for yourself.”

I open my eyes to find a short woman standing at the end of my bed with her arms crossed and her mouth twisted into a half smirk. “What happened?” my voice comes out in a raspy breath.

The woman raises an eyebrow, amused. “ _ What happened  _ was you picked a fight with the number one guy in this prison that you should  _ not  _ get in a fight with and lived. I gotta say, Clarence, I’m impressed.”

I look at the woman confused. “My name is Castiel.”

“Yeah, I know. My name’s Meg. I’m the nurse slash doctor slash pharmacist slash dentist slash psychiatrist in this shit hole. Nice to meet ya.” Meg rolls her eyes and walks over to my side. She begins removing the IV from my arm and the heart monitors from my chest. “How do you feel? Any nausea or headache?”

I nod slowly and watch her as she moves. “Have you done anything to my nose? I believe Sam broke it when he punched me.”

“Oh, he definitely did,” Meg snickers and holds a small mirror in front of my face. My nose is purple and swollen. When I turn my head I am met with a dark, discolored bruise on my cheek bone and along my eyebrow. A small section of my upper lip is split open and swollen with dried blood covering it.

“It’s not the worst a Winchester has done to me.” I sigh and look away from the mirror as Meg pulls it away. I feel her gaze on me after hearing what I said.

Meg walks away for a moment and comes back with a cup of water. “Rough break up?”

I snort, “You could say that.”

“Sam has a sister?” Meg raises an eyebrow. She reaches down and undos the restraints around my wrists then hands me the cup of water.

I shake my head and swallow the water down in a single gulp. “Brother.”

“Huh.” Meg walks away again to get another cup of water along with two pills. “Take these and it will help with the pain and nausea. Try not to scrunch your nose or move it in any way or it could dislocate the bone from where I reset it.”

I nod and take the cup and pills from her, swallowing them down quickly. “Will I be put in solitary confinement for fighting?”

Meg laughs. “Usually you would, but your bunk buddies backed you up and said you never threw a single punch. Sam is the only one they sent to solitary.” Meg pauses and give me a knowing look. “So you better watch your back once he’s out.”

I sigh at the thought of having to see Sam again. If I could have anything, it would be to never see a Winchester again.

A pair of tan colored garments are thrown onto my bed. I soon recognize them as my prison uniform and move to change into them. Standing leads to my head spinning as I blink away the impending darkness that begins to cloud my vision. Once it passes, I am able to pull off my hospital gown and change back into the uniform. Meg watches as I do this and every second take passes makes it even more uncomfortable. I turn to face her once I’m finished.

“I believe I am well enough to return to my bunk if you point me in the right direction.”

“I’m required to escort you, but first I need to check your basic motor skills and memory for any sign of a concussion.” Meg gestures to the bed I was just laying in and I sit down with my legs hanging over the sides. She begins to test a few things by having touch my fingertips together and follow her pen cap with my eyes. She then asks me simple memory based questions such as my address and my birthday. Meg fills out a sheet of paper and then signs the bottom of it.

“Looks like you’re fine. Now stand up. It’s time to go back to your bunk.” Meg holds my hands behind my back and walks me out of the room and down a few winding halls. I am careful to memorize the path she takes in case I ever need to find her again. 

I am taken into a vaguely familiar room full of bunks divided into sections. Meg releases my arms and leaves without another word. It only takes mere seconds before I hear Gabriel yell my name loudly across the room.

“Cas!” 

I look up and almost every pair of eyes in the room are on me. The room breaks into cheers and I have to restrain myself from flinching at the sudden loud noise. Gabriel runs up to me and slaps a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. More people come to crowd around me and a small smile breaks out on my lips. I am only able to pick out a few things being said amongst the cheering inmates.

A man next to me says, “Shit man, you got some balls standing up to Winchester.”

Another says, “You deserve an award for surviving that ass whooping.”

The chatter continues until a few officers rush in and yell for everyone to return to their beds before they lose their outdoor privileges for the next week. The inmates argue, but grudgingly return to their respective bunks, Gabriel guiding me back to ours. I slowly sit down on my bunk and glance over at Sam’s bunk which remains empty.

Gabriel points at Sam’s bunk and looks at me with a smirk. “They sent him to solitary because you never fought back. He’s gonna be  _ so  _ pissed when he gets back and sees your smug face sitting pretty.”

I shake my head. “I said what needed to be said. It seems that the Winchester bloodline must run with the same amount of ‘need for violence’.”

For the first time since arriving in the prison, Gabriel shows actual concern as he sits down next to me on my bed. He was never one to have deep and emotional conversations with me when we were young, but I hadn’t seen him since our father left ten years ago. I don’t even know why he’s here. Sure he has done plenty of low level illegal things, but nothing worthy of serious punishment. Jail maybe, but not prison. 

“Cas, why are you here? What happened between you and Sam’s brother?” Gabriel asks in a low whisper so others cannot listen in.

I look down at my hands and let out a slow breath. “Dean and I were dating for two years when a friend of mine pointed out that in normal relationships, loving the other shouldn’t feel like a chore and suck all the life out of you the longer you stick around. I will admit, Dean and I were not a good pair. He got mad very easily and I was often his source of venting the anger so to say—”

“Wait he  _ hit _ you?” Gabriel looks appalled.

“Only once or twice. It was more yelling and screaming horrible things at me.” I shake my head. “That’s besides the point. He started to transfer his anger into another form which was beating innocent people passing by and leaving them to suffer. Soon enough, he accidently killed a man and I was dragged into his mess even more. Dean developed a taste for killing and happened to find a man who had wronged him in the past, walking down the street one night. I helped him plan the way we would kill the man and then I stood and watched as Dean carried it out. The only problem was that I wasn’t watching for passers by seeing what was happening and alerting the police. And when they showed up, Dean ran. He shoved the knife he used to kill the man in my hand and left me to take all the blame before I could even think to run too.”

I turn to look at Gabriel and I’m met with a repulsed expression spread across his face. He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it again as he can’t seem to figure out how to respond to what I’ve just told him.

Crowley breaks the silence from the bunk above me. “That’s all sorts of fucked up, if you ask me. I have men on the outside that would gladly take him out in a heartbeat. Just say the word.”

Gabriel nods in agreement but I just shake my head. “No one will be taking anyone out. I can handle myself. If I wanted Dean dead, he would have already been dead.”

Crowley leans over the edge of the bed and looks down at me. “Seems to me like the Winchester brother rubbed off on you.”

I glare at Crowley and his head retreats back to his top bunk as quickly as it appeared. I turn to Gabriel with a frown.

“You know why I’m here, but why are you here?”

A smile spreads across Gabriel’s face like it’s Christmas morning and he’s just opened a present full of candy. “Have you ever tried an edible?”

I look at Gabriel confused. “What is that?”

He laughs and slaps me on the shoulder. I wince. “Oh baby bro, you have not experienced anything until you’ve eaten one of my edibles. Not only do they not taste like weed, but they are weed infused Laffy Taffy covered in Nerds and they’re strong enough to give you an out of body experience.”

My frown deepens as I roll my eyes. “Drugs? Really, Gabriel? How big of a ring did you have to create to be brought this deep into the federal punishment system for only marijuana?”

Gabriel looks away and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah that’s sort of the problem. It wasn’t just marijuana in the edibles, it was cocaine too. I also made some with meth and ecstasy.”

“You were a drug dealer. Even after Michael?” I shake my head and huff out a breath.

Gabriel gets up off my bed and climbs up into his. “Michael didn’t sell drugs, he did them until he couldn’t anymore. I never tried anything stronger than weed and when I did, it was the last and only time.”

“You ruined your life because of it.”

Gabriel’s jaw clenches and he lays down with his back facing me, not saying anything more. I shake my head and do that same, but laying on my back so I do not hurt my nose more. I daydream until it is time for dinner.

When I reach the hallway I am almost trampled by hundreds of men running to the dining area. I try my best to stand out of their ways and off to the side where I walk at a steady pace even though my stomach retorts in hunger fueled growling. Once I reach the cafeteria, I join the line of men anxiously waiting for their meals. I reach the front and a cook hands a tray to me. I push it down a line of other kitchen workers who scoop mashed up foods onto my tray and then shoo me away to sit down. I look down at the food with a disgusted face and try to find Gabriel and Crowley.

“Castiel.” A hand wraps around my wrist and my muscles tense, prepared to fight. But when I turn and see Crowley, I relax and find my seat across from him.

“Where’s Gabriel?” I ask while scooping up a portion of a chunky, brown pile of food from my tray.

“Pouting somewhere probably,” Crowley replies through a mouth full of food. I taste the bit of food I have on my spoon and try my best not to gag. Crowley does not seem to taste what I taste in the food, however. He scoffs down everything on his tray and chases it with a bottle of water.

I stare at him in horror. “How can you eat this?”

“I’ve been here a while and there’s no use complaining about something you’re stuck dealing with. I’ve learned to just not think about it.” Crowley shrugs, “Mind over body, you know?”

I nod slowly and return my gaze to the unappealing mush of a meal staring back at me. “Mind over body,” I agree and dig in, trying my best to not taste what I force down my gullet.

“Man will do many miraculous things when faced with hunger.” Crowley sips at his water and chuckles. Our conversation dulls to a peaceful silence filled with the chatter of the other inmates. Soon enough, I see Gabriel enter the cafeteria and search the room. I wave at him and he smiles, walking towards Crowley and I.

“I can’t believe I missed your first prison meal,” Gabriel sighs. “How was it? Even worse than you expected?”

“It wasn’t exactly favorable if that’s what you are asking.” I pick up my napkin and wipe the excess content of my meal off my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye I catch some inmates at a table across the cafeteria, looking in my direction and speaking to each other. I set my napkin down and narrow my eyes at them, trying to make out what they are saying.

“Don’t give them any attention,” Gabriel whispers, elbowing me to get my attention.

I look away from the men, hesitantly, and then look back at Gabriel. “Why not? What do they want?”

“Trouble,” Crowley chips in. “Trouble and nothing more.”

“I can handle myself―”

“―Cas please, listen to me for once,” Gabriel cuts me off with a sigh. “You’ve been here for only a day. You’re fresh meat. If they don’t want to beat you down or frame you for something that will send you to solitary, then they want you to join them, and that’s just as bad.”

I glance back over at the table and see that two of the five men at the table are standing up and walking over to our table. My hands curl into fists in my lap as they approach. One of the men stares me down as if he knows things about me that I do not know myself; his lips turned upward in the corner in a sort of smirk. The other man is far younger with blonde hair and a somewhat lanky build. I could take them both down in an instant, so I hold my ground accordingly.

The older man is the first to speak and his voice causes shivers to run through my body. “You must be Castiel.”

I give him no gratitude in confirming or denying his statement. My eyes stay level with both of them, not letting my guard down.

“The name’s Alastair,” the man continues, extending his hand out for me to shake. I do not accept his offer. Alastair lowers his hand and gestures to the other man. “And this is Adam. I see you’re more of a get-down-to-business type guy. I admire that, so, why don’t we have a quick business chat, Cassie.” Alastair shoves Crowley over in his seat and sits down across from me while Adam stands with his arms crossed, at the end of the table.

“I want nothing to do with you or the rest of your men.” I level my strongest glare at Alastair, but he seems unaffected.

“Oh but we want  _ everything _ to do with you. You see, in order to survive the prison life, there’s things you gotta do.” Alastair smiles at me and I cringe at the sight. “There are people you need to befriend that will watch your back and you ultimately agree to watch theirs in return. And with the  _ friends  _ you’ve clung to at this point, when Sam gets back, he’ll make sure you don’t survive his next attack. Me and  _ my _ friends will make sure Winchester never lays another finger on that  _ pretty _ face of yours.”

“We have a much greater rep around here than these two druggies combined,” Adam says, lifting his chin defiantly. 

“I am fine where I am, thank you,” I reply calmly.

Alastair snickers, “You’ll regret that decision soon enough,  _ Castiel _ .” A twisted smile makes its way onto Alastair’s face as he grudgingly stands and drags Adam back with him to their table.

“Prats,” Crowley says, shaking his head and moving back into his seat. He smooths out his clothing and brushes imaginary dust from his shoulders. “What were they thinking coming over here like they’d won you over already.”

“What are they serving time for?” I ask, looking between Gabriel and Crowley.

“I only know that Alastair is here because he got caught with child porn that he took himself. He’s a really fucked up human being and I don’t know how any of his followers can stand to be around him without cringing away every time he smiles.” Gabriel shivers at the thought.

“They seem like the type of people who were made for a life in prison,” I say with a glance towards their table.

Crowley and Gabriel nod in agreement and get into a conversation amongst themselves. Dinner ends and an officer escorts me to my counselor for a job assignment. I walk into the office and a man about my age smiles at me from behind a desk.

“Shut the door please,” my counselor commands. I carefully push the door closed until it clicks shut and I sit down in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Hello Mr. Collins, my name is Chuck Shurley and I’m going to be your counselor for the remainder of your time here at Leavenworth.”

I nod and look around the office, distracted by its appearance of extreme disarray. “You can call me Castiel.”

“Alright, uhh, Castiel, in your files I am seeing that you were previously a groundskeeper for multiple families in the area. So, I am going to see about you getting placed in a construction job here if―”

“―No.” I look back at Chuck and shake my head.

He looks back at me confused. “No?”

“I was never a grounds keeper. Either my file is wrong or you are looking at the wrong one. The only job I had was at a local coffee shop.”  _ The first place I met Dean _ , I think to myself and shake my head again, looking down at my lap.

Chuck looks down at his files confused, scratching the back of his neck. “It could easily be someone else’s paperwork that slipped into your folder. I apologize for the mess, I’m not exactly organized with the 27 new inmates that were transferred here today. Not including the extra paperwork from you and Mr. Winchester’s little disagreement.”

I shrug. “If it’s any help, I would work well in the kitchen if I was to be placed there.”

Chuck sighs and rips a paper from my file, throwing it behind him. “Yeah. Okay. Sure, we can do that. Less paperwork for me. Let me just print up a new report and you’ll be good to go.” Chuck turns to his computer and begins tapping at the keyboard with his eyes squinting. A minute later, the printer kicks on and a paper prints. Chuck grabs it and puts it into my folder, then looks at me with an exhausted smile. “Welcome to the kitchen crew Chef Collins.”

I nod unenthusiastically in response. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow morning. Four a.m.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Four in the morning?”

“Yes. I will assign one of the senior kitchen workers to train you and he will come wake you once it’s time to go. You will be in charge of helping make all meals for the men in this prison. Do you understand?”

I nod and look down at my hands.

“Alright, good,” Chuck continues, standing up to open the door and gesture for me to leave. “You are free to leave.”

“Thank you.”  I stand and leave the room. Once the door is shut behind me I turn to walk down the hall and back to my bunk. Halfway there, a voice stops me in my tracks.

“Cas.”

Shivers run down my spine and I feel as though all the blood has drained from my face. “No…” I whisper under my breath, wanting more than anything for this to not be true. I slowly turn around only to be faced by the one person that I had been so desperately trying to forget.

A smirk pulls up at the corner of his mouth and his green eyes shine down at me, full of life and mischief.  _ Dean _ .

“Thought you’d seen the last of me, huh?” Dean says, taking a step closer to me.

My hands tighten into fists at my sides and my throat goes dry before I get the chance to even think of a witty response.

“Come on, Cas.” Dean puts his hand on my shoulder. I flinch at the touch. “Don’t be like that.”

“Don’t  _ fucking _ touch me,” I hiss and jerk away from him. “You lost the right to do that a  _ long  _ time ago.”

Dean scoffs and I can’t help my pent up rage from causing my fist to fly forward and connect with the right side of his face. A guard is instantly pulling us apart before I have the chance to land another punch. 

My knuckles throb. 

The guard holding Dean back is yelling orders into his walkie-talkie, ordering for backup. Dean does nothing but smile at me in the way that makes it seem like he has nothing to lose. I’ve never killed anyone, no matter what my track record states. But if I was a killer, Dean was at the top of my list.

“Inmate!” the guard holding me yells. “Return to your bunk without any further issues or you’re gonna find your ass in solitary. Understood?”

I nod, never taking my eyes off of Dean, watching his every movement. I put up my arms in surrender as the guard releases me and shoves me towards my bunk at the end of the hall.

“Can’t hide forever, Cas!” I hear Dean yell as I turn to walk away. All I feel is a heavy nothingness sitting inside my chest.  I walk faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I was going on vacation this week (lol) so I will not be posting the next chapter for two weeks. Sorry!


End file.
